Chelsea
by WD's KiT-TaY
Summary: When a suicidal self-indulgent teenager and her patsy boyfriend crash onto the Island with the lost crew, Chelsea’s life is, as far as she’s concerned, worthless. Only one man can show her how unfair and painful life can be and how she's seen nothing yet
1. Chapter 1

**UM I know stories like this usually get snubbed completely but... whatever**

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Chelsea put another cigarette between her cherry-glossed lips and drew it out of the carton. Nearing her last 10 now, she sighed moodily and lit it up to breathe in any fumes besides the constant petrol the torn air-craft spewed out. She dropped the ash into the white sand below her while tapping the beat to her favourite music and she became so engrossed into the tune, tearing and stretching out her soul like it did. It was torturous and ear-splitting but it was just another thing she found so addictively fun.

_I want to…_

_I want to be someone else or I'll explode_

_Floating upon the surface full of birds_

_The birds_

_The birds_

She pushed her earplugs deeper into her aching ears and wondered, _how much energy do you use to feel pain? _Chelsea smiled a little to herself and gave it a try, taking her nearly burnt out cigarette and jamming it hard into her skin. She gasped and laughed dryly in response to the burning sensation forever staining her flesh. Her most heartfelt song came on and she whimpered when she saw only one sliver of the bar left on her ipod. So she shut her eyes, curled up in the sand and turned up the volume so she couldn't even hear their cries anymore.

_You want me? _

_Well fucking come and find me, I've been waiting_

_With a gun and a pack of sandwiches and nothing_

_Nothing_

_Nothing_

"Chelsea," a voice interrupted her. She pretended she hadn't heard him and bit her lip. "_Chelsea,_" the voice repeated more sternly but she continued to ignore it. Sayid wouldn't stand for it so he took the ipod into his hands and ripped the earplugs out of her ears.

"HEY! Give it back, Sayid!" she yelled, holding up her palm for her device to be returned but Sayid refused. Chelsea's eyes burned with uncontrollable rage and she jumped up to try to take it out of his very hands. "GIVE IT BACK, YOU FUCKING TERRORIST!" she screamed but Sayid held her back calmly as she swiped her long painted black nails at his face.

"You are being useless sitting around all day listening to music! Your help is needed with these people."

She stopped jumping into his face and settled down once she realised Sayid wasn't one to back down easily. "Fuck off! They don't need my help, what use would _I _be to them?"

"Obviously not very much," he said with distaste, "but we still need all the help we can get." He cast her one last glare of dislike and she returned that with a cringe followed by flicking him off with the finger. Sayid left with her ipod before he would lose his temper and do something he would regret.

"OI! Give me back my _fucking ipod!_" She started running after him, her pink and brown dreadlocks whacking against her slender back. "You're wasting its fucking battery," she spat, taking Sayid's shoulder forcefully and spinning him around to face her. Sayid could hold the perfect grudge and not even have a trace of anger inside his voice but Chelsea couldn't even hold her overactive emotions inside for 3 seconds.

"So turn the device off," he said patronisingly, stuffing the ipod back to her.

"It doesn't make a difference; the battery still runs itself out whether it's on or not. Wouldn't it make more sense to use it all up now rather than having it wasting away in silence?" Sayid turned around and rolled his eyes walking back to the camp again. _Drama queen, _he thought and disappeared down the beach.

There was something about that man that she just couldn't stand, something that really got under her skin that she couldn't explain. Chelsea's arms shook in rage as it boiled her blood inside and she felt helpless more than ever. Suddenly the reality of being stranded on a deserted island with no help ever coming hit her hard again. She lifted a hand to her pale cheek and found hot tears were running down it. She didn't even know she was crying through the absolute hate and she brought out her compact mirror. Chelsea came to hysterics even more so when she saw the monster staring back at her, ugly eyeliner stains down her face and her eyes weren't burning anymore, they were just glazed and dead.

_You want me?_

_Well come on and break the door down, you want me?_

_Fucking come on and break the door down, I'm ready_

_I'm ready_

_I'm ready_

She put in one earplug and switched on her ipod again, desperately hoping to get through the last minute of her best song. But it didn't even make 10 seconds before the empty battery sign flashed and the music abruptly stopped. _What happens when the power's run out…? _Within the next few minutes, the ipod was smashed and torn apart, eventually thrown into the ocean over her screams.

--

**So yeah. lol**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! People reviewed :D very thankful for that. Yaaaaah Chelsea has a bit of a problem... I'm actually sorry to say, she has the same temper management as all the teenagers I know as good friends. No one in particular... cough TASHA! cough**

**-innocent smile-**

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Chelsea lay down in the wet pasture sleeping and hiding from everyone back on the beach that would try to have a go at her. She didn't mind venturing into the 'mysterious' jungle despite the constant disturbing noises from it. She was the only one who wouldn't have hesitated to run inside if she hadn't been stopped before crossing the first few blades of grass. The sun beat down onto her small pale figure and it burnt her skin badly but she was coming to a point where she just didn't care anymore.

"What 'cho doing 'ere?" Chelsea awoke with a fright and moaned warily when she saw her boyfriend standing sheepishly over her. She rolled over onto her stomach as the 17-year old English boy sat down beside her, adjusting his beanie over his head.

"Go away, Morgan," she mumbled through the dirt. Something was tossed onto her back and almost crushed her as she exclaimed sharply. "What the fuck was that for?" she cried and shoved it off. Then she noticed what it was and a grin spread across her face.

"I found your bag for you. Y'know, since you never bothered to look for it yourself," he added dully.

"You're just jealous because a fucking polar bear ate yours," she laughed sarcastically and Morgan stared at her not amused.

"Man, that polar bear must be _tripping…_ You got yours though, right?"

"Don't forget major emphasis on the _yours _for me_,_ babe."

"Hey, what's yours is mine, babe."

"In your dreams, man…" She looked up at him again and smiled innocently but Morgan wasn't buying it. He scurried up close to her and put his face right next to hers, his bloodshot eyes full of fear.

"C'mon, I need that hit, baby, you know I'm good for it," he whispered roughly.

"Sorry, but you're not getting a speck of _this _shit without paying up any finances from now on. Like money is any use to me now we're in the middle of nowhere." She opened up her large black bag and rummaged around and taking out her carefully hidden cannabis. She laughed grimly but Morgan didn't assist her in the morbid sense of humour. "Fucking security checkouts couldn't pick up this, we could've sneaked some of the good stuff in. It could've given us a real great send off."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked after a long pause. She looked at him with her dazed expression, dark blue bags sinking beneath her eyes.

"I meant… forget it," she whispered sourly, zipped up her bag and left. It seemed like every conversation she had started to get shorter and shorter as it either fell apart on a sensitive subject or ended in fight. She couldn't face admitting she was wrong or even apologising, it was best to just walk away, leaving her boyfriend to watch her depart in annoyance for both of them.

--

Chelsea stared long and hard at Charlie for quite some time before she broke the silence, finally figuring out where she'd seen that face around. Charlie coughed nervously and glanced up at Chelsea and having caught her watching him, he turned his head in confusion. She appeared to scare him somehow. "… You're from Driveshaft, aren't you?" Charlie stared up in bewilderment before grinning and nodding.

"Yeah… you know 'em?"

She nodded briefly and a disheartened smile crept its way into her mouth. "Yep… Nice band," she lied. Although she'd never even made it through one of their songs without throwing the radio out the window. The only thing she was really good at was lying. She was so mastered in the trickery that she could even convince herself aside from the cold hard truth. Charlie blushed and looked away embarrassed.

"Thanks," he said trying to contain his excitement then he glanced back with a normal smile and held out his hand. "Charlie Pace," he greeted and after a pause she shook his hand.

"Chelsea Daniels," she said, totally uninterested as were the others sitting around them in mind-numbing boredom.

"I could play you one our songs if you'd like," he offered as he picked up the cheap acoustic guitar he found. Chelsea knew it belonged to a friend of hers who didn't make it through the plane crash. She turned away uneasily as he strummed out-of-tune chords.

"Uh that's… not necessary," she muttered. Charlie took the hint and held the strings still.

"So what about you, you in a band?"

"I've been in the odd one or two bands that kept playing themselves raw and never minded dignity, just to get discovered. I did a bit of drums and keyboard, sometimes vocal." Charlie smiled and tapped the hollow body of the instrument.

"No guitar then?" Chelsea scoffed.

"I couldn't play guitar to save my life. No, my mate… Bronwyn. She was the best guitarist I ever knew. She was beautiful," Chelsea lowered her voice to a whisper and stared longingly at the guitar Charlie held in his lap. "But she's gone now," she sighed. Charlie nodded sympathetically. "When it was just me and her, the music we made… it was," she struggled for words but none came to mind. "Ah, we just spent our days pissing around and getting high... nothing like the sex, drugs and rock'n roll, eh Charlie?" She laughed a little humourlessly and Charlie joined her.

"We should get together sometime and make a record ourselves," he offered jokingly. Chelsea raised her eyebrows.

"Oh yeah, definitely on my lists of things to do. Collaborate with Driveshaft," she noted ironically. "Play me something?" she asked with a puppy dog smile.

"Yeah, sure, requests I can do," he replied cheerily.

"Ummm… Losing My Religion, R.E.M. Play that one bitch of a song to get your fingers around," she chuckled. Charlie played the song with ease, a little surprised it was the kind she found most appealing, lusted after even but played it nevertheless. Charlie sung the lyrics reasonably in tune with the music and Chelsea was the only one who never left his eye contact. He couldn't help but smile back at her and she started to join in with him during the chorus, her voice high and sweet that was a dramatic change to her dreary sarcasm. Whatever the song, it didn't matter because they sung together all afternoon long.

--

**... Would you believe me if I told you it gets better?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sawyer's encounter (Misery)**

**Aww I scared away the reviewers ALREADY? w0w I must be a nasty writer... okay, if NO ONE reviews this chapter then... there's probably not much use in trying to finish it then, is there?**

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Chelsea carefully gathered all her clothes, shaking them out to rid them of sand before dressing herself for the next day of hell. The early morning sun peeked over the horizon of never-ending waters and brought the first few shades of peach light into the Island. The skies seemed pretty, the air was cool but nothing could make her day anymore worse after lighting up her last cigarette.

She pulled on a basic stripped black and white t-shirt and struggled to bring the sleeves right down to her wrists. Then she complemented her figure with a trim black vest to give some type of definite shape above her pair of very baggy jeans. She strapped on only a few colourful trinkets that day since she would be moving around a lot. "This wasn't meant to happen," she mouthed at the man lying in her bed. After kissing Charlie goodbye who still lay naked under a fire blanket they stole, she sneaked a bit of his pick-me-up and left.

The warm breeze led her to the frothy edge of the sea where a few other self-conscious early birds bathed as well. She splashed her face and the saltwater hit her like an icy cold blast, her face turning numb and a slight purple colour under the strong weather. Just before she was about to drift away, she spotted a lean tanned man with short dirty blonde hair and blue eyes emerge from the ocean. He flipped his hair back and casually walked back to shore, looking like he'd just finished a surf modelling shoot. Clearly, it was nothing new to him and he easily embraced his charm, he walked completely nude back to his items.

"What do you think you are doing?" Chelsea heard Sayid's cold voice faintly in the background. She sniggered and looked away when she saw Sayid standing by Sawyer's clothes, arms crossed and tempers flaring.

"It's called personal hygiene, Abdul; perhaps you'd like to try it sometime," he replied crudely in his strong Southern Accent and while drying himself off rather forceful with a small towel.

"Put on some fucking clothes and show some respect. You're not the only one who inhabits this beach so stop acting like it's your world and we're just living in it." Sayid stormed away and Sawyer mocked him as his back was turned. Sayid's threats got around. So did Sawyer's reckless and insensitive practical jokes, actually. Chelsea assumed it was safe to look back now and laughed when she noticed Sawyer's neighbours turn away in disgust. He obviously thought they could take a flying leap and he took his time to get dressed. But what really got Chelsea's attention was when he lit up one of many cigarettes he held. She glided over, nothing but the towel wrapped around his waist.

"You're very modest, so I hear." Sawyer turned and gave her a sly grin as he looked her up and down. She returned the smile and leaned on a nearby tree, eyeing at least 2 cartons of fags in his bag.

"You like what you see, baby cheeks?" Chelsea cringed at the nickname. She knew she was due for one; everyone had their share of flippant and sometimes insulting nicknames from him. She looked down and noticed his towel was slipping off his hips so she smiled coyly. "What a shame I got up so late, I could've joined you in your morning swim," he teased, willing to leave the towel alone.

"Uh over there…" She pointed over her shoulder at Morgan who just strolled in lazily. "My boyfriend," she smirked and Sawyer nodded. He watched Morgan carefully as he picked up random shells and put them to his ear nervously. He was now wearing a pair of smart black rimmed glasses he borrowed off a dead man. _Strange withdrawal symptoms,_ Chelsea thought.

"He looks like a nice guy," Sawyer noted and reached for a clean red shirt. "I wasn't hitting on you anyway, hotshot. What are you, like 18?" Chelsea shook her head and held up 6 fingers. Sawyer laughed, "I don't even know your name."

"Chelsea. Not that you'd use it anyway."

"… What do you want from me?" he asked suspiciously, strapping on his jeans right in front of her and finally hanging up the towel to dry out. Chelsea gave a slight cough and moved closer to him, feeling the polluted smoulder from his fag in her lungs rather easing.

"A compromise." Sawyer laughed gravely and raised one eyebrow.

"Is that right?"

"Unfortunately I can barely hold up a few hours without killing for a smoke. I want to trade you for half of what you got." Sawyer released a long exasperated moan and took a seat in the soft sands, not bothering with shoes. Chelsea followed him down, watching him dump the packets out before them.

"3 packets," he stated like it was final, no haggling though his math was wrong.

"You fucking blind?" she whispered tetchily and spilled the other cartons out of his backpack with the rest of them. A little grin swept across his face and Chelsea felt the need to count them out evenly for him. "And they say _I_ couldn't make it past 3rd grade."

"Hey, no need to get defensive, Kelsey," he explained in a much laid back manner. "All I'm saying is that unfortunately for _you, _these are the very last boxes on the plane and I just happen to smoke myself a small tobacco harvest."

Chelsea blinked stiffly, "you're right, that _is _unfortunate," she said incredulously and reached for her share until Sawyer whacked a hand on hers to stop her. She looked up and found the deep crease his eyebrows formed over his dark eyes made him look more sinister than anything.

"What do I get in return for the cigarettes, sugar?"

"Anything you want," she sighed, "just name it."

"I charge a pretty hard bargain. You sure you got what it takes to satisfy me?"

"Well, one man's trash is another man's treasure. I think I know just what you'd be after."

"You better check it's not something I can find in anyone's back pocket, sweetheart, or I may just have to-" His words were cut short when a pair of soft lips pressed up against his. He felt someone switch off the sun and smiled inside his mouth before deepening the kiss and rubbing his tongue gently with hers, embracing her unusual but addicting taste. It all ended too soon and Chelsea broke away, licking the stray lip-gloss from her lips. Sawyer opened his green eyes, full of disappointment and Chelsea made it clear that she always gets what she wants.

"Isn't that your… boyfriend? Over there?" he asked with a chuckle. But his eyes never left the magnetism inside her deep purple irises.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," she replied.

"You were greasing all this time, just to win me over some smokes?"

"I do hope it worked," she smiled sweetly and Sawyer caved in under her allure. "5 packets?" she pleaded. Sawyer rolled his eyes, picked up 5 boxes, counting them aloud and handed them over a little in reluctance. Chelsea gave him a quick peak on the check before she moved away and stood up on her own two feet again, stuffing the boxes into her baggy jeans discreetly. Sawyer only stared her down in that strange accusing expression, which didn't happen to be very uncommon for the Southern bloke.

Chelsea folded her arms and scoffed as she looked at him on the ground again. "What cheesy nickname will you give me now? _Fag?_" she asked, daring him to say it.

Sawyer scoffed and after a long engaging pause he had an answer. "I don't think so, misery." The smirk immediately fell off Chelsea's face and she was suddenly so irritated, Sawyer's eyes never leaving her changing hormones. He could read her that easily – she was distraught just even thinking about it. He chuckled in a gruff voice and retrieved a Tom Clancy book from his bag, opening up to the page with a folded corner about half way along and began his easy reading, cutting her out of his sights. Chelsea bit the tongue that still lingered on his foreign taste and she walked away. She had got what she wanted in the end. It didn't matter to her that she was now identified as a dead ringer of misery.

--

**... hey I just realised something... I have a boyfriend called Morgan (wow I'm so memorable) As you probably may have guessed, I picked the name Chelsea because of the song 'Chelsea' y'know... /_Maybe I made a big mistake last night, when I left you alone with Chelsea/ _Come to think of it, Chelsea is like my favourite name... I want dreads... I still don't know who I love and who I'm lying to... -eyes suddenly widen fearfully-**

**UMMM I'M NOT WRITING ABOUT ME AM I?? I'M NOT A HEARTLESS SLUT!! **


	4. Chapter 4

**YAY!! Thank you reviewer (sorry, bad with names) you've inspired me to keep writing. Well I probably would have gone ahead with the story anyway but now I can do it in reassurance. I'm glad it's alright, especially for an OC based fic. **

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Chelsea murmured numerous cuss words under her hot breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she'd noticed Charlie had finally walked into her territory and he wasn't looking too happy as he came over to greet her. She wondered whether it would have been more unproblematic to just run for the hills rather than face up to her mistakes. Ignoring him, and still writing down lyrics inside her little journal, He knelt down beside her.

"Chelsea," he whispered. She recoiled at the way he said her name but eventually looked up with an expression that would neither confirm nor deny any feelings that lurked in her conscious. "Listen, umm… about last night," he started off good. Very calm, relaxed, controlled. It was almost like she wasn't the first he'd blown off before. "I didn't mean to go that far with you. And I just wanted to see-" Chelsea stopped him with the wave of her hand.

"Its okay, Charlie, I know the routine. It's not like either of us hasn't dealt with this before, right?" Charlie smiled; glad she was making this easy for him without any complications. "Course… it wouldn't be so hard if you never had to see them again," she reminded him awkwardly. He pressed his lips together and nodded, and she closed her book slyly when he tried to see what she wrote.

"What are you writing?" he asked, trying to change the subject after assuming they'd gotten over it. Forgive and forget.

"I write shit," she stated frankly. "Emotional shit," to clarify.

"I didn't think you were the emotional type."

"Well… it's not that deep compared to _you all everybody!_" she mocked Driveshaft's famous single. Charlie narrowed his eyes at her as she laughed with a more reassured sense of hilarity and pushed the side of her head away playfully. Then the laughter calmed down and Charlie accidentally caught her eyes. He had to resist himself from tucking a few loose dreads behind her ear, but she did it for him when she took notice. "No hard feelings… Friends?" she put up her hand for a high-five and Charlie smirked. "C'mon, man, don't leave me hanging…"

"Friends," he agreed. They slapped their hands harshly together and grinned through gritted teeth despite the burning sensation inside their curling palms. "I'd just like to safely say that it was brought on by the… crushing loneliness and pessimism of being stranded on a strange island. The stress, exhaustion and the rest." Chelsea jumped up just about to walk away with a look of crafty confusion.

"Really? I thought I'd put it down to the… _sexual frustration._" She purred and ran away before Charlie had time to react. _Too soon… _he thought hopelessly and took out the guitar for another song once again.

"Hey, Hurley," Chelsea indifferently saluted as she collapsed down in the sand next to him, inviting herself into the little reserved group. Everyone stopped their food from reaching their mouths midway and stared at the newcomer. She eyed the food ideally, trying to ignore everyone's cold glares. Sayid in particular - she didn't even let her sights sweep across onto that blazing fury.

"Who the hell are you?" Hurley asked after a long disturbing suspension. Chelsea frowned and opened her mouth to speak but the words caught at the back of her throat. For a minute there she forgot the survivors hadn't even seen her amongst the wreckage and chaos. She'd always be hiding out in odd places they wouldn't suspect.

"I'm Chelsea." She finally managed to introduce herself.

"Okay…" said Hurley, slowly and with anxiousness. "How come I've never seen you around before?"

"Because she keeps well out of sight when there's work to be done," Sayid answered for her, appearing to be the only one still eating and not enthralled by the gothic tramp. Chelsea growled, picking up a small stone and chucking it at him. It should've been easy, he was only a few metres away from her. She cursed her bad aim as it hit the plastic carton Sayid's food was held in. He looked back up at her again with look of tiredness and embarrassment rather than fury. "You missed," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah? Well I would have got a bigger rock but I was aiming for a place where size didn't matter," she retorted. Sayid's hands curled into fists, his veins pulsing out of his slender arms and Chelsea had little satisfaction within that range. She wanted more of that thrill.

"Don't be so harsh to Sayid, child," Rose ordered politely from next to her, touching Chelsea's arm lightly. "We've all been through enough and there's still plenty more in the day ahead of us." Chelsea stared at Rose in contempt. That same point-blank stare all teenagers cast anyone who tried to undermine them, _you don't know me, don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do, _the common youth rebellion. Locke just stole it off them.

"Is there any more food?" she asked, trying to cover up the irritation in her voice but failing miserably. Hurley glanced at Sayid worriedly who stared back. Chelsea sighed, "I haven't had anything decent to eat since before the crash, I'll really _starving,_" she pleaded but still everyone carried on without her. "Do I have to get on my hands and knees?"

"If you were that low and desperate you would." Chelsea's hairs stood on end when she heard the Southern drawl behind her back. She looked up to see Sawyer smirked back down on her, a tray of vaguely heated airplane food in his hands. "And believe me… you are_._" Chelsea snatched the food from his grip and dug into it, ripping the aluminium foil to pieces. "Okay then, have _mine!_" Sawyer cried dramatically, shifting her and Rose over to fit in between them.

Before Chelsea lay a plate of meaty lasagne drenched in tomato sauce, little bubbles of oil surfacing all along the pastry. Microwave dinners weren't exactly what she'd call 'decent' either. She scrunched her nose in repugnance and picked it up, placing it into Sawyer's lap. "Actually… on second thought, you can have it."

"More for me," he breathed into her face smugly and Chelsea pretended to be disinterested. "Don't mind if I do, misery."

"Seriously… shut up," she said quietly.

"What was that?" he asked raising his voice.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Sawyer. You'll choke." They way she spat those last two words, she was obviously picturing them inside her mind. Sawyer greedily ate the food and wiped a speck of sauce that flew onto her cheek with a finger before licking it off delicately.

"That's what I thought you said." Chelsea groaned and the group fell into dead silence once again. It was starting to get to her, becoming increasingly frustrating and she had to take out a cigarette. As she lit it up, Sayid coughed deliberately and she knew it was just another perfect opportunity to get on her nerves, have another go at her neck.

"You're not smoking here," he hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you like me to go outside?" she asked in her smutty tone of voice.

"It's disgusting, people are _eating._ Take it somewhere else or put it out." Chelsea widened her eyes, feigning absolute fear. While she was doing this, Sayid stared at Sawyer hopelessly. He gave a wink to Sayid as he slid his had into her jean pocket and stole her one and only lighter.

"Come now, misery, why don't you just leave Ali Baba alone?" Sawyer asked pityingly.

"And why would I listen to you?" she turned abruptly to him and found him still grinning his widespread smile.

"Well for one thing…" he held up her lighter in his hand and dangled the flame between her eyes. "What good's a cigarette when there's no match for it to light?" Chelsea's amethyst eyes grew violently colder and she tried to snatch it off him pathetically. She finally gave up after nearly burning her hand again and Sawyer hooted loudly at her pain. "A little _unfortunate, _wouldn't you say?" Sawyer didn't notice how weak she was feeling until the first set of tears dripped down her face. But he couldn't stop smiling. He liked to see her beautiful flower wilt.

Without a word, she stomped out her cigarette, not even daring to see the fulfilled expression on Sayid and Sawyer's faces. Sawyer chucked her the lighter and she caught it without even opening her tearstained eyes. Then she left, wiping the salty tears from her face before anyone else realised she was crying. There really _was _some form of supposedly extinct emotion behind that stale glaze. "Good job," she heard Sayid thank Sawyer with a touch of uncertainly.

--

**This story has a considerable amount more Sawyer than Sayid... but his time will come. eventually... zomg Sayid is HAAAAWT- NO! I must not let the fangirl within me take over...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you soooo much** **to ****Teenage.Anomaly and Katty Noir who have reviewed my story. Really appreicate it guys, I hope this story won't disappoint in the end :)**

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The flicker of the flames reflected inside her eyes, the warmth was strong against the harsh winds that battered and thrashed the woods, but still she was freezing cold. Her ivory-white slim hands trembled and the rest of her body followed likewise. The face read nothing but silent disorientation. After tossing on a few more broken dry shrubs, her hard-earned fire was put into motion.

"You warm enough?" A familiar dead beat voice erupted from behind; Chelsea didn't even need to turn to know who 'Mr. Fix It' was. Her tone quietened, her voice grew considerably smaller and she put all thoughts aside for now when she smiled – or lied, take your pick – to his face. "That's a nice fire," Jack encouraged.

"Well, don't give me all the credit," she said thinly after finding nothing else to say in response. "I didn't do it myself." Jack nodded and Chelsea mentally begged him not to sit down next to her as he approached. "Yeah, I was just thinking about turning in." Jack stopped in his tracks and he looked a little stumped. It was merely a precaution in case he felt like trying to join her in friendly conversation she'd rather avoid.

"Yeah, me too. There's nothing better than a good night's sleep." Chelsea raised her eyebrows at him and nodded in strong agreement. Jack gave her one last coy smile before returning back to his own campfire group.

The winds picked up coarsely and for a minute there, it seemed as if her fire was in danger of dying out. Chelsea moved and tried to put it in a position where it could get more fuel but in a swift instant, the fire was put out. A low hissing and a small wave of smoke didn't come too far behind.

"…Whoops," the Southern man hollered, a bottle of opened water still dangling above her head. Chelsea, having glanced up to find him grinning and steering the water in a pendulum-like swing, smacked the bottle so it flew afar and the liquid spilled all down Sawyer's front. He bit his tongue from releasing his dissatisfaction and instead focused on hers. "It was an accident, I swear," he laughed.

"Don't you have some poor defenceless animal to ravage?" she asked, exhausted.

"It looks like you're top of my list then, misery." He collapsed onto the sand next to her and outstretched his jean-clad legs over her lap. Chelsea stared at him in quiet contempt and he could not wipe the grin from his face.

"Cosy?" He continued to smile, it was like he was just waiting for something to happen. What did he expect of her with that cheesy expression glued to his lips? "Why did you kill my fire?" she eventually asked, very squarely.

"I, uh… thought I'd just put it out of its misery."

Chelsea scoffed and faced him. "I get it… you're just pissed because I ripped you of your smokes." She offered him a crude smile and took a packet out of her jersey pocket, throwing it at his broad chest. "Here, you can fucking have them back. They make me sick anyways."

"This has nothing to do with the damn smokes," he said clearly, his tone darkening and becoming less enthused. Sawyer threw the smokes right back at her. "You know that."

"Then _what?_" her voice barely above a whisper.

Sawyer leaned into her face closer and she was surprised to see it was drained of all ironic humour now, nothing but dead seriousness left. "You hurt people. People… I don't want to see get hurt, because they're a bad enough wreck already without you coming in and blocking out the sunshine."

"… Are you calling me fat?" she answered. Not a thought in her head, no snide remark, nothing.

After narrowing his eyes, Sawyer spoke again after a long harsh silence, only gentle unrecognizable whispers mended into the air. "Just cut the sarcasm for one minute and _stop_ trying to avoid the truth. I reckon you can't face up to your feelings… because you have no idea what they are. You don't feel _anything, _misery."

"Take that back," she spat.

"I would if it wasn't true."

"Which it is _not."_ Sawyer chuckled under his breath and reached into his pants for another cigarette. He ignores her strength to break her down; he's only interested in her pain. "You don't know me… you strut out here, thinking you do but… _you don't."_

"But I do know you, misery. Better than you do anyway."

"Y'know what? Just fuck off," she said, turning away from him. Sawyer smiled after lightly touching a nerve. What he needed to find out now was how he could pinch it.

"Why, can't you handle the truth? Is there something that you can't stand, waking up to in reality?"

"Oh, that's rich!" she cried. "What the fuck does someone like _you _know about reality, Sawyer? You take the same escape routes as me."

"Mine don't send me knocking on heaven's door, sweetheart…"

"You don't want to get on my bad side, Sawyer, believe me," she warned though a smirk was just begging to crawl onto her mouth.

"Didn't take you as the type to have different sides. You always sounded a little borderline to me, misery." Chelsea averted her gaze from the flames and dug her forehead into her icy hands. Sawyer put an arm around her shoulders and played with her baby pink dreadlocks. "You don't have a bad side," he laughed.

"You don't here much of it because no one ever lives to tell the tale. So don't go there."

"You're _all _bad, misery, there's not one speak of good in you."

"And don't you forget it, babe…" her whisper was dark and seductive, she was inching towards his soft lips again but Sawyer knew better than to let her take him over. He pushed her away and took back his arm.

"You think this is funny? You think this is a _game? _GROW UP!" he yelled, finally achieving all the surrounded survivors' attention now but they both didn't care. Sawyer nearly shoved her into the fire but she wasn't afraid, she couldn't care more or less.

"After you…" Snide. She still had it; nothing could make her back down. Sawyer's sea green eyes were temporarily blinded with an obscurity and he jumped on her. He had one knee pinned down into her stomach, one hand clasped onto her slender throat and one held onto her shrivelled black heart, with a hunger to rip it out of her system. It was useless to her anyway. She was barely breathing, hardly living. He dug his nails into her neck and she could only let out a cut-off chuckle. The grip tightened and his eyes darkened – all she could do was _laugh?_

"-HEY! _HEY! SAWYER!" _Sawyer didn't even hear their screams or their terrified cries until several others ripped him off her near-dead body. Chelsea took in a deep breath and her strong coughing turned into hacking. Jack shoved him into the sand, holding him threateningly in a position much like how he just had Chelsea. But Sawyer's expression couldn't hold a candle to the anger Jack had plastered on him. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Jack screamed at him just inches from his face, spraying spittle on him.

"It's not raining, is it, Doc?" he asked, tone still cold and hard and Jack could see something different inside Sawyer too. It was unusual because Sawyer didn't lost control anymore just by simple petty annoyance, especially on a young girl, despite her power to bring him down. It was unusual, because no one else had that power. "She got what was coming to her; you don't know who she really is."

"Are you okay?" Kate asked with definite worry. As Chelsea's vision faintly returned in a blurred image, she saw Kate look up at Sawyer with something that clearly asked if he any self-control at all. Chelsea's plastic smile finally let down after sucking in great mouthfuls of air. A few more people helped her sit up and she saw a bunch of losties had gathered to watch the fiasco, with Sawyer and Jack still going at each other's throats in the background, the noise was shrill. She looked around and only found one man was still seated afar, hadn't even moved a muscle upon hearing her distress. His black eyes steadily connected with hers… It was Sayid.

"What the fuck are you doing, man?" Morgan was outraged, really he was, he pushed Jack off the traitor just so he could have a go at Sawyer himself. "What the _fuck are you doing, you fucking faggot?_" Chelsea would have jumped in to stop Morgan's actions but… C'mon, Sawyer almost tried to take her life. And it was just a few smokes after all…

"YOU CRAZY BASTARD!" Morgan screamed as a few people tried to drag him off, allowing Sawyer the apparently undeserving opinion of getting up and defending himself. "_What the fuck are you doing trying to strangle her?" _Morgan waited for an answer but Sawyer's calm reserved peace of mind only bought him more battle."LET'S SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!" he outstretched his shaking hands and raced for Sawyer's neck.

"Alright, that's enough," Jack stepped in between them before Morgan would get his fists of fury out. "No one moves until this is sorted out. Last thing we want is innocent blood spilt all over our hands."

"Typical, Jackass, always trying to play the hero." Sawyer adeptly pushed Jack aside and walked past him to Morgan who was trying so hard to restrain from shooting out. Sawyer was telling nothing now but the cold hard truth and Chelsea foresaw what was coming. She tried to push herself back up, still heavily gasping but overprotective arms held her back.

"Why did you hurt her?" Morgan shot directly.

"Because your girlfriend's a slapper, Morgan," he answered. Everyone fell silent as if wishing Sawyer to continue. The look Morgan came back with was a little more infuriated that his last.

"You don't know what you're-"

"NO, _YOU _DON'T KNOW, FOUR EYES! She's just been playing everyone here behind your back. And I thought it was just about time I revealed the reality. 'Cos she doesn't deserve discreet judgement, she doesn't even feel any more regrets than the psychotic serial killer next door who took out their own family for a couple of cigarettes!"

"I think that's going a little overboard, Sawyer, don't you?" she hissed in a coarse voice. Sawyer stared her down, his emotion was tough love. She didn't even bother with faking the resentment or tears this time as Morgan slowly turned towards her, slowly starting to believe the rumours.

"You're a fucking whore who only looks after no.1… I'm just expressing what everyone else here has been thinking."

"Would you like to finish this out of the public eye?" she seethed, giving a nod towards the nervous crowd. The anguish was so strong inside her voice, almost uncontained but Morgan was starting to worry why none of it showed up on her face. "I think we've disturbed everyone enough for one night."

"Like you give a fuck about them."

"_I do_."

"_Bullshit! _No, I'm not finished with you yet, misery." He approached her and before they knew it, she was under the pressure of his crushing muscles again. Everyone frowned in confusion when she started grinning, acting strangely and letting her guard down. It was like she was actually enjoying it. "What you would do just so you could always have it your way," he breathed in her ear. Chelsea remained silent, still glaring at Sayid, and then she caught on a notion.

"We're alike you know, Sawyer." Sawyer's grip tightened on her aching shoulders and collarbone but he passed it off, laughing loudly to pretend it was a joke. A damn hilarious one too.

"Well, I'm flattered, really I am, misery, but there's a very clear difference between you and I… _you're a fucking vampire._"

"And you're not?" she asked sceptically.

"I just press people's buttons and that's where I draw the line. But I bet everyone else here would sure like to hear about you."

"Hey, watch it, don't make this personal," she said sarcastically. Sawyer shoved her away so she tripped and fell on the sands again, padding her hard landing reluctantly. Out of the blue, Morgan finally stepped up, saying her name like it was a dreadful omen and staring like she was the devil.

"Is it true…?" She engaged eye contact with him and opened her mouth to speak. Her expression was unchanged but Morgan cut her off before she could say anything. "And don't you dare lie to me this time… I want the truth."

"I'm a pathological liar, Morgan. So I guess you're just gonna have to take your chances." She never gave him a certain answer but he knew she couldn't give him the truth. He walked away, he'd heard enough. He paid way too much attention into the way he walked. Anyone could recognize it anywhere: stiff and broken-hearted. Chelsea didn't feel a thing. If _anything_, then possibly relief he was out of her life for now. He was just another self-pitying twat who pretended to understand where she was coming from.

"Now you're an outcast. No one will touch you now that they know what you are and everyone hates you. But that's okay… because you hate them more."

"I don't recall ever mentioning I hate anyone. I just find it difficult to put up with them but I do what it takes."

_You're never going to crack are you? _"… Well aren't you glad you can finally rest that artificial smile?"

She looked back at Sawyer and came towards him, her head resting on his shoulder. His dirty hair brushing her delicate features for the last time. "I have nothing more to say to you," she whispered quietly for his ear's only.

"I know you're kind… and you're nothing like me."

"Touché," she responded with a wary sigh, finally ending this eternal argument they've been saving for. The ultimate showdown, as some might say. Sawyer didn't smirk like he had planned to. He had taken all he could stand from her, utterly sick of the sight of her. The frown he had suited on drew deep lines across his face and within an instant, he left. Everyone did.

When Chelsea looked up again in the blistering cold, the dimly lit fires still illuminated Sayid's more or less gentle face. His eyes never left her when everyone else did.

--

**Hmmm the chapters seem to be getting longer... oh dear. Poor Morgan. But someone had to tell him... -suspicious shifty eyes-**


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